Imperfect Mirror
by Fictatious
Summary: ‘That’s not what I mean,’ Hisoka said hastily, not wanting Tsuzuki to go back into his frantic, selfhating identity crisis. ‘I mean... who’s holding you...’ Hisoka swallowed back the lump in his throat. ‘Is it me or Hijiri?’


Hisoka ran his free hand through Tsuzuki's hair. The other one was firmly clasped between Tsuzuki's as he clung, occasionally stroking his thumb over the back of Hisoka's hand or pressing it to his cheek. He was still shaking slightly. It could have been from the cold, -he was lying on the concrete and it must have been leaching all the heat out of his body- but Hisoka was sure it was from his prior hysteria and lingering doubt.

Hisoka sighed, shifting his eyes from Tsuzuki's head rested comfortably in his lap to the underside of the bridge they'd taken refuge under when the sky threatened to tear open and pour. There were no street lamps in this area and only a few windows lit near them. It was dark, but not too dark. Dark enough to make Tsuzuki's eyes look like the black, night-time water.

Hisoka wondered how dark his own hair looked. His skin, he could see by his hand, was murky in the dim light. He almost could have seemed to have a fine tan, with the clouds blocking the silver moonlight from falling on him.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip a surge of jealousy and a guilty kind of dislike washing over him. Guilty because it was for the boy who had grinned, linked his arm and declared 'We could be brothers! It's like something out of a Charles Dickens novel!' He'd never been anything but gregariously pleasant to Hisoka, and that made him horribly difficult to hate.

Tsuzuki lifted Hisoka's hand to his face again, resting the back of it against his lips, not quite kissing it, and just breathed softly, gleaning comfort from the smell of his skin, as the last of his trembling died. He sighed softly, his expression content and his emotions wearily happy and loving. His eyes were closed and he looked as though he might fall asleep there.

'Tsuzuki...?' Hisoka asked softly, his eyebrows drawn together in the center and his eyes burning just faintly.

'Aa?' Tsuzuki smiled up at him, opening his eyes. Hisoka looked away, back at the sliver of cloudy sky between the edge of the bridge and the buildings in the distance.

'Who are you thinking of?' he whispered, barely able to push out the words but unable to hold them anymore.

Confusion washed over Tsuzuki's countenance. The turmoil, not as hysterical but still distraught, started to rise within him again. 'Muraki said that I--'

'That's not what I mean,' Hisoka said hastily, not wanting Tsuzuki to go back into his frantic, self-hating identity crisis. 'I mean... who's holding you...' Hisoka swallowed back the lump in his throat. 'Is it me or Hijiri?'

New confusion and surprise came from Tsuzuki in such a flustered way it made Hisoka's head ache. 'Hisoka, doushita--'

'You loved him, right?' Hisoka closed his eyes against the hurricane of feelings rolling off his partner. 'You slept with him that time.' To the new statement Tsuzuki's emotions went silent for a moment and then flooded in with a rush of guilt and confusion. 'You were so happy... I could feel it a mile away... how happy you were that he loved you... how much you loved him... You have very loud emotions, Tsuzuki... I knew... but if I hadn't, I could have guessed...'

Tsuzuki might have been flushing, but Hisoka couldn't see in the darkness. He felt the weight on his thigh shift as Tsuzuki turned his head away from staring up at Hisoka. Shame and embarrassment were the main colors streaking Tsuzuki's heart right now. 'I... gomen...' he mumbled doubtfully.

'Why?' Hisoka shook his head but didn't look at him. He had tears trying to come out of his eyes now and he tilted his head back, trying not to sound congested. 'It's nothing... I just... want to know who you're thinking of. I mean, it's not like it was wrong of you...'

Tsuzuki was awash with confusion and made a helpless squeaking sound in the back of his throat before he managed to pull his thoughts together. 'You're holding me, Hisoka,' he whimpered, trying desperately to decide if it was the right thing to say. 'I didn't think about Hijiri until you mentioned him.'

Hisoka let go of a shaky breath, his head still tilted back to prevent the tears that were already sliding down his cheeks.

'Hisoka...?' Tsuzuki was getting slightly panicky in his confusion.

'Aa,' Hisoka lightly stroked his hair again. 'Arigato.'

'Hisoka...'

'I just--' Hisoka stopped, trying to dam his own emotions as they attempted to pour out of his mouth, desperately needing to be given voice. 'I wish...' His voice cracked from tears and Tsuzuki's hands clamped more firmly around his, not so much to offer support as to quiet his own fear.

'I wish he was prettier than me,' Hisoka whispered very quietly. 'Or taller or smarter... anything... anything that I could have blamed someone or something for... any reason... besides how mean I am to you...' his words trailed off so that Tsuzuki could barely hear the last few.

'Hisoka?' Tsuzuki sat up abruptly as a sob shook loose from Hisoka's chest. 'Hisoka?'

Hisoka was pulled into Tsuzuki's arms, folded warmly against his chest as he began to cry uncontrollably. Tsuzuki was comforting him now, rocking him gently back and forth, petting and kissing his hair and holding him protectively, overflowing with warm, confusing emotions.

'Hisoka... aishiteru, Hisoka...' Tsuzuki mumbled into Hisoka's hair, his voice faltering with emotion. 'Hontou aishiteru...'

Hisoka sobbed loudly and hiccupped twice before he could speak, and then just barely. 'Tsuzuki mo.'


End file.
